Tuesday, May 27, 2008

TRIBUTE TO ROSE SANDOUNO

Knowing what I know now

Should I have loved you more?

When heaven calls on its servant

A humble soul, immaculate and pure

Should I have known it was goodbye?

Or must I have been prepared?

For a heavenly call so silent and serene.

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Clouds of heaven whirl at your presence

Angels whisper rest in peace

On earth friends assemble in vigil

God’s kingdom is for you

You, your brother’s keeper

Those you touched with love

Continue to weep in prayer

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Should I cry for you Sister Rose…Aunty Rose?

Break down in that childish laughter

That has left an echo in my heart

May I Sister Rose, Aunty Rose Should I?

You knew the answers to my questions

And answered them with motherly charm

Pure, spiritual, delightful and strong-headed

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I cry now within the pages of my books

The only image of you, the one I last saw

Bright and merry, so tender and sweet

“Joe, you must grow up now,

Your little one is about to be born”

But if to die is to be reborn in heaven

In my heart you are always alive

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I have grown up now Sister Rose…Aunty Rose

I am grown up

I am grown

Sister Rose

Aunty Rose

Rest in peace

Sunday, May 25, 2008

THE OTHER IN US

When all of a sudden we can no longer hear the voices that once kept us alive and gave us a sense of human presence, we begin to notice the missing parts of us that once was. It is natural that we lead our lives through each other even though sometimes we wish our neighbours were not alive. What makes us different from other creatures of the world is our ability to reinvent ourselves into living with each other in spite of our differences, and the things that make us unique to each other. It is only in the collective that we can even begin to imagine that we are different. Therefore, if our uniqueness comes from the collective, united we can create a unique world in which prejudice against one is detrimental to all. If this be a dream, I wish to remain in slumber.

TO MOVE THE WORLD

One more step along the world I have come
Along pavements that seem to lead beyond
From familiar stories a few years done
To a new page almost unknown
Landing on shores that may not bemoan
The filosofia that is not my own

From the lands of the Bambara
Where yemani trees stretch afar
I have swam across the Mano River
Uniting fallen tribes of separate lands
Bearing once more and now
The humble peace my forefathers spread

If these whirly winds be of more use
From the lion’s den I shall arise
Passing through the old and making anew
The cosmos a shape that is yet undone
To leave my mark where I belong